


angst prompt: matt dies

by orphan_account



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst Dark Brew ™, Drug Use, Excessive Drinking, M/M, References to Suicide, Self-Harm, vague references to past child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 15:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: angst prompt: matt dies and aaron is left alone, feeling need to turn to drugs again. he gets wasted on alcohol. how to grieve and cope?





	angst prompt: matt dies

matt dies and aaron is left alone, feeling need to turn to drugs again. he gets wasted on alcohol. how to grieve and cope?

 

Aaron knocks back another shot and lets the shot glass dangle from his fingers for a moment before setting it carefully on the table. He doesn't really want to be here, but he doesn't really want to be anywhere, honestly. He's avoiding going back home, though. Home is a shared apartment, full of shit that reminds him of Matt everywhere he looks. Home has Xanax and Vicodin and Oxycontin from when Matt was injured in a game a few months ago. If he goes home, he knows himself well enough to know that that he'll empty the medicine cabinet and grind them up and snort as much as he can handle. 

He wants to forget. He wants to stop feeling. He wants Matt back…

But that isn't happening. Matt is gone. Dead. Car wreck. Fucking - he fists a hand in his hair and pulls hard. Goddamn car wrecks. One took his mother from him and a second has taken Matt. He doubts this one was intentional, but the investigation isn't over yet. 

He grabs the little pitcher and pours himself his sixth or seventh or eighth shot. Who's counting? He sure the fuck isn't. 

The blaring music isn't loud enough to drown out his thoughts. He got a table as close to the massive speakers as he could, but it still isn't enough. He needs more - more of whatever he can get. Something has to dull the ache in his chest and stomach - the steady pounding in his head that hasn't let up since last night when the hospital called him.

He wants to throw the glass against the wall, wants to smash it against the table with his palm, wants to flip the table and rage and hurt everyone around him until they hurt as badly as he does. But he just sits there and downs another shot. 

He's emptied the shot when someone sits at the table. He blinks at his reflection, confused. When did a mirror get there? But then he sees the scar over the eyebrow and the different haircut and the black armbands and his brain sluggishly catches up to reality. Andrew.

“T-th’ fuck you doin’ here?” Aaron slurs. 

“Boyd is dead,” Andrew says flatly. He is barely speaking loud enough for Aaron to hear him. “It was on the news.” 

Aaron laughs. Of course it would be on the news! Famous Exy Player Dies in Horrific Crash! Or some bullshit like that. Aaron hasn't looked. Matt was D.O.A. - dead on arrival. All Aaron could do was identify his fucking body. 

“I'm - I'm goin’ home,” Aaron mutters. He slides off the tall chair and stumbles, but catches himself against the table before he can fall. He manages to get himself to the bar and pay his tab. He probably tips too much, but he doesn't care. 

He’s sort of aware of Andrew following behind him as he makes his way outside. Someone bumps into him. Aaron shoves them away. He's itching for someone to start a fight, but whoever it is backs off and people seem to part for him after that. He turns his attention on making his feet work to get him outside. 

It's not until he's standing on the sidewalk and searching for his phone that he remembers he left it behind. He curses at himself and goes to head back into the bar to have the bartender call him a cab, but Andrew is blocking his way.

“I'll drive,” he says blandly. Aaron just sighs and follows after him. They walk down the street a bit and Andrew unlocks the doors to his new Alfa Romeo and slides into the driver's seat. Aaron more or less flops into the passenger seat. “Do not puke in my car.” Aaron flips him off.

Andrew has been to his and Matt’s apartment only once before, but Aaron knows he doesn't need to be reminded, so he keeps his mouth shut and watches the city pass around them. Each place they pass where he and Matt used to go together sends another stab of pain through his chest. He's got both arms folded around his stomach and he's nearly curled up on himself by the time Andrew parks in the parking garage - in Matt’s space. 

Aaron gets out and digs his keys out of his pocket. He punches in the code to get into the building and Andrew follows him. Aaron barely registers that he has a bag over his shoulder. Is he really planning to stay? Aaron hopes not.

The inside of the apartment is pitch dark. Aaron smacks the wall to turn on the overhead light in the kitchen. He drops his keys in the bowl on the counter and completely ignores his phone, even as it rings. He goes straight to the bathroom to puke up most of the alcohol he'd downed earlier.

Andrew opens the door to the bathroom and looks down at him where he's sitting against the wall, staring at nothing. “Katelyn has called you over a hundred times. I answered. She is worried.” 

“Fuck her,” Aaron says hollowly. He doesn't really mean that, but he doesn't want anything to do with her right now. “Go away.” 

“I am not leaving,” Andrew says, but he does walk away from the bathroom. 

Aaron stretches across the floor and slams the door closed. His eyes catch on the medicine cabinet and he climbs to his unsteady feet. He twists the lock. He looks like shit. He hasn't slept in...fuck, who knows how long. Since the day before he got the call, he thinks. Too much to do for his residency. 

He prys open the cabinet and finds the Oxycontin first. He uses the cap of the bottle to crush four of the pills into fine powder. He bends over the counter and plugs one side of his nose, then snorts up as much as he can. And fuck but it burns at first. His eyes water and he sniffs a few times. Before it can kick in, he bends over again and uses the other nostril to snort up the rest of it. 

He tries to take a step back and falls on his ass. He hasn't done any sort of drugs in years, and the alcohol already in his system combined with them has his head spinning and his fingers numb. His head hits the wall hard, but he barely feels it. 

“Aaron?” Andrew is on the other side of the door. 

“Go - go ‘way, ‘Drew,” Aaron slurs out. He hears the knob rattle. “Fuck off!” His head rolls to the side when he hears the mechanism that keeps the door locked snap. He curses. Andrew broke the fucking knob. The door opens and Andrew squats in front of him. 

“Stupid mother fucker,” Andrew mutters. He reaches out and grabs Aaron’s arm and yanks him forward. In a swift move that leaves Aaron dizzy and confused, Andrew has pulled him to his feet and is mostly dragging him out of the bathroom and over to the couch. He lays Aaron down. “Stay put.” 

Aaron can't quite feel his feet anymore, so doesn't think he can go anywhere even if he wanted to. He tosses one arm over his eyes. The couch smells like Matt’s cologne. He presses his nose into the back cushion and breathes deep.

For some reason, that's what breaks him. He doesn't scream or break things like he sort of wants to. Tears just seem to pour out of him and they won't stop. He rolls over to his side, facing the back of the couch, and curls himself into as small a space as he can. He shoves his fist between his teeth and bites down hard to stop himself from making any noise. 

He is lost between times. He is eight and hiding from his mother’s current boyfriend. He is fourteen and trying to keep quiet while his mother beats him with whatever she finds handy. He is twenty and he is trying to keep his nightmares a secret. He is present and Matt is dead.

Someone touches him and he flinches hard, curling up tighter. The smaller he is, the less they have to hurt. Small targets get less attention. If he can make himself invisible maybe they will leave him alone…

“Aaron.” Andrew's voice jerks him back to the present and he remembers why he's crying and why he's higher than a fucking kite. “I called Katelyn. She is on the way.”

Aaron can't even manage to tell Andrew to fuck off. The moment he stops biting his knuckles, a sob rips through his chest. He's too high to control himself, to even move much. He can't think anymore, can't even really see. He brings his knuckles back to his teeth because it is the only thing that helps, some small part of his mind encouraging him to bite harder because the pain will help. 

“Stop.” Andrew’s hand grabs his wrist and doesn't let him chew his knuckles. 

He loses his mind to grief and oxys and booze. 

\--

Katelyn is there when he wakes up, and somehow he's in his bed. Her eyes and nose are rimmed in red. When she notices him looking at her, she doesn't say anything, just reaches out and takes his hand. He realizes that it's wrapped in gauze, but he doesn't care to ask why. 

“I'm sorry,” is all she says. Andrew comes into the room and Katelyn lets go of him as she stands. “You are always welcome to come stay with Gregg and Me.” She edges around Andrew and leaves the room just after that. 

“You're coming with me,” Andrew says, “or I'm staying here. Pick.”

Aaron just looks at him for a long moment. “Why?” 

Andrew crosses his arms over his chest. “Because you nearly killed yourself with that stunt you pulled last night.” His face has that too-blank look that he gets when he's pissed. “I understand that your boyfriend died -”

“Fiance,” Aaron says quietly. He looks up at the ceiling. “Not boyfriend.” 

Andrew is quiet for a long moment. “That does not mean you get to die, too. I promised to protect you - and that includes protecting you from yourself.”

“Fuck off,” Aaron mutters. “We broke that deal a long time ago.” He has to pee, but he doesn't feel much like moving. 

“That does not mean I broke my promise,” Andrew says, his voice pitched lower than before. 

Aaron turns his head to look at his twin again. “Why the fuck do you care? We don't talk but once a year. I'm not your responsibility anymore.”

“You're still my brother.” It's probably the weirdest thing Aaron has ever heard come out of Andrew’s mouth. 

“I'm not going with you,” Aaron says. “And you aren't staying here. It's the middle of the season. You shouldn't be here now. Just leave.”

“No.” 

“Get out.” 

“Why, so you can try to kill yourself again?”

“The fuck does it matter to you?” Aaron makes himself sit up. “I'm sure you've flushed everything by now anyway, so fuck off. I don't want you here. You never liked Matt. You don't like Katelyn. I doubt you even like me. Just fucking leave already. You've done your part. Your conscious can rest easy.” Andrew looks downright murderous, but Aaron just doesn't really care. “I bet if Neil died, you'd fucking give up. You might not kill yourself, but you sure as hell wouldn't give a damn about anything anymore. So don't stand there and pretend like you're better than me!”

“I will be out there.” Andrew turns and heads back out to the living room. Just as he closes the door, Aaron reaches over and grabs the alarm clock and throws it at him. It doesn't hit him, but it wasn't meant to. 

Aaron goes to the bathroom and pees, then strips for a shower. He breaks down again in there, winding up on his knees sobbing for fuck knows how long. He can't seem to stop. His insides feel like broken glass. It hurts just to stand up and wash his face a second time and finish his shower. Every breath feels like it's too much to bear without Matt there with him. 

Katelyn is gone when Aaron finally leaves the bedroom, dressed in one of Matt’s shirts but his own sweats. Andrew has a laptop open on the counter, and he's speaking to someone. When he sees Aaron, he moves to the side to reveal Betsy. Aaron rolls his eyes and ignores them both as he gets a bottle of water from the pantry. 

“Talk to Bee,” Andrew says.

Aaron takes a long drink from his bottle of water. “If I do, will you leave?” Andrew clenches his jaw and looks away from him for a long moment. Aaron watched as Andrew relaxes and his eyes snap back over to him. He nods once. Aaron reaches over the counter, picks up the laptop, and heads back to his bedroom. He slams the door closed with his foot.

He does actually talk to Betsy. After he started crashing Andrew's sessions back at PSU, he'd gradually grown to somewhat like her. He'd even seen her on his own a few times. She talks him through his overwhelming grief some, and encourages him to call her any time he might need her. 

When he finally ends the call, he's exhausted. He closes the nearly dead laptop and takes it back out to the living room. Andrew is out on the balcony smoking. Aaron knows he doesn't smoke as much now, but he goes out there. 

“Can I have one?” he asks.

“You do not smoke,” Andrew says, ashing his cigarette over the railing. 

“I used to,” Aaron reminds him. Andrew finally shrugs and gives him the pack and a solid black Zippo. Aaron lights it and relishes in the nicotine high that hits him almost instantly. “Thanks,” he mutters through his exhale and hands both back.

Andrew only shrugs again. They smoke in silence. Aaron grinds the butt out on the railing before pitching it over the side and going back inside. He sits down on the couch and tugs his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. 

“Boyd's mother called for you,” Andrew says when he comes back inside. 

Aaron nods once. “Have to plan for the funeral now, I guess.” His voice is hollow. He presses his forehead to the top of his knees. “I don't know what to do.”

“Ignoring your phone and hiding away here and trying to kill yourself are not the solution.” Andrew sits down in the chair by the couch. 

Aaron looks up at him with a scowl. “Shut the fuck up. You have no fucking idea what this is like.” 

“Nicky has called me ten times asking to talk to you,” Andrew says, changing the subject. “The rest of the Foxes have called your phone as well.”

“I don't want anything to do with them right now,” Aaron mutters. 

“Too late.” When Aaron looks over at Andrew, he shrugs. “They are on the way here already.” Aaron groans. “Dan and Allison should be here soon.”

Aaron sends the most poisonous glare he has the energy to muster up at his twin. He doesn't bother to get up and change clothes, though. He doesn't care. They are intruding on his grief. They will damn well get over what he's wearing and what he looks like.

He shifts to his side and curls up a little better. He looks at his knuckles. He'd taken the gauze off earlier when he'd showered, but he hadn't really inspected the damage. They are bitten to hell and back, the skin broken in several places, and bruises have formed up on the skin that isn't torn. He thinks about how Matt used to kiss his knuckles and he squeezes his eyes shut against the tears, though they still come.

Of course, that has to be the moment when Andrew’s phone rings. He answers and then gets up and heads outside. Aaron drags himself up and dries his face. Seconds later, Andrew comes back with Dan and Allison in tow. They live closest, so it makes sense that they'd be here first. Aaron stands up and Dan doesn't say anything to him, she just walks over to him and wraps him in a hug.

“You look like shit,” Allison says softly. She hugs him briefly after Dan lets him go. Aaron hasn't really returned either of their hugs. He knows he was never the favorite. They're only here because of Matt, anyway. Still, Allison might be the only person who knows what this feels like. “No excuse for that.” He nods once, remembering all too well how she kept herself perfectly made up no matter how much she grieved. 

“Randy is on the way, too. I'm going to pick her up from the airport in an hour,” Dan says. “Renee sends her love, but she can't get a flight out of the village she's in for another week at the earliest, and even that isn't a guarantee.” Aaron just shrugs.

“I'm surprised Katelyn isn't here,” Allison says, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

“She was,” Aaron says dully. “Pretty sure Andrew scared her off.” Andrew doesn't deny it. 

“Are Neil and Kevin coming?” Dan asks, looking to Andrew. “Nicky already called me and said he would be on the first flight he could book.”

“They have games this weekend,” Aaron says, waving her off. “I don't expect them to come. And Neil can fuck off. Just like Andrew can. And you both and everyone else can.”

Dan doesn't seem to take that personally, but Allison steps closer to him. “Listen here, you little shit. I cancelled on a huge run for my fashion line so I could be here. Dan is going to miss her kids’ game. Andrew won't play, and I've actually already called Kevin and he said he would be here tomorrow. So stop acting like the fucking world is ending. It isn't. Yes, Matt’s dead. There's no getting around that. And yes, it hurts more than anything. But you don't get to call it quits, got it?” She pokes him hard in the chest with one one of her perfectly manicured nails. “I survived. So can you.”

Aaron doesn't say anything. His throat feels tight with the threat of tears again, but he refuses to cry in front of them. 

“He's -”

“You shut the fuck up,” Aaron swears viciously at Andrew, cutting him off. Andrew just looks at him. 

“Um, why don't I make some coffee?” Dan says. “Aaron?”

“It's a Keurig. Everything is beside it.” He waves his hand at the kitchen and Dan walks over to it. 

“Stow the attitude for now,” Allison says, “and go get dressed. We're going to go pick Randy up from the airport and then we are all going out to eat dinner. You need to eat, so don't even try to argue with me.”

Aaron rolls his eyes but he heads into his room anyway. At least in there in can have his little breakdown in private. 

\--

Randy refuses to leave Aaron’s side from the moment she sees him at the airport. She breaks down in tears as she holds him close, which just makes Aaron cry again. He knows what he's going through, but he can't imagine what it must be like for her. She manages to pull herself together after only a moment, so he wipes his tears away on his shoulders and sniffs a little to try and make himself seem okay. His head is pounding, but he doesn't say anything about it. 

They pile up in two different cars, Randy choosing to go with the twins while the girls take Allison's newest pink Porsche. They follow her to the restaurant she's chosen. Though it looks like they should all be better dressed than they are, they are seated quickly and without comment. Aaron doesn't do much more than pick at his chicken dish, but no one seems to notice or care - they're focused on Randy now, and really, that's for the best. 

Later that night, Neil and Kevin both arrive. Kevin had apparently come earlier than planned. Aaron and Matt’s small apartment is crammed full of people. He's just glad they won't all be staying. Randy has insisted on it, which he doesn't mind. She gets the guest room. Andrew still refuses to leave, so that means he's stuck on the couch. The others get hotel rooms just a few blocks away. 

Aaron breaks into the vodka almost as soon as they get back to his apartment. He can't stand having everyone so close. He wants to be alone with his misery. Andrew watches him like a hawk, but Aaron knows he's probably already plundered through the entire place looking for pills and tossed everything he could find, whether or not he knew what it was for. Allison and Kevin join in on the drinking and Aaron winds up dragging out all of the booze they have stashed in their liquor cabinet and arranging it on the counter so they can grab whatever they want. 

At least he'd bought his own pack of cigarettes at the gas station earlier. 

He and Kevin drink themselves into a stupor. Aaron winds up out on the balcony at some point with the entire fifth of Grey Goose in his hand while he chain smokes. Randy comes outside and sits in one of the two chairs out there, though Aaron is sitting in the corner with the wall at his back and the railing pressed to his left side. 

“I'm so sorry, sweetie,” Randy says softly. She reaches over and takes the bottle from him. Aaron expects her to chastise him or keep it, but all she does it take a long drink herself and then put it on the floor between them. 

“I'm sorry, too,” he says, looking up at her. He exhales more smoke and crushes the rest of the cigarette out. 

“Andrew told me what happened last night.” She bends down and swipes the pack of cigarettes away from him. Those she doesn't give back. “Aaron, you can't do that to yourself. Please promise me you won't.”

“I wasn't trying to kill myself,” Aaron says. He looks away from her but can't quite stop the sneer that forms. “It wasn't like that.”

“It didn't seem right that you would,” Randy says softly, “but even still. You have your career to think about. Keep that in mind.”

Aaron looks out over the city. “I worked too goddamn hard for it to forget about it,” he says softly. Allison's words from earlier ring in his ears. He looks over at Randy. “What are we gonna do?”

She shrugs. “Plan the funeral. Get through that as best we can. Then...just...go on from there.” She lets herself cry so easily and Aaron almost wishes he could do the same. “That's all we can do.”

Aaron nods. He thinks about having Nicky there with him. Nicky has always held him up, even when he didn't quite realize he was doing it. It will be just a little bit easier with Nicky here, he thinks. Randy has become the mom he should have had all along, too, so having her as well…

Maybe it will be enough.


End file.
